


I Can't Have You

by ellerkay



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Frottage, Incest, M/M, Masturbation, Non-Consensual Somnophilia, Pining, Self-Esteem Issues, Shame, Sharing a Bed, Sibling Incest, Somnophilia, Underage - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-07
Updated: 2019-03-07
Packaged: 2019-11-13 13:41:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18032795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ellerkay/pseuds/ellerkay
Summary: Fourteen-year-old Sam is desperately in love with Dean. When an opportunity presents itself involving a shared bed and a sleeping Dean, he can't resist the urge to take advantage.





	I Can't Have You

**Author's Note:**

> For the [SPN Kink Bingo](http://spnkinkbingo.tumblr.com/), the Somnophilia square.
> 
> Title taken from the song "Shots" by Imagine Dragons.
> 
> IMO, this is pretty tame as far as non-con goes, and I think the Dean in this story has romantic/sexual feelings for Sam, too. However, there is no established relationship and Dean is asleep and therefore unable to consent, and had not given prior consent. Reader be warned.

Sam loved to see Dean sleeping.

Of course, he loved seeing Dean all the time. Even when Dean was driving him crazy, which was always. Sometimes Dean drove him crazy in that infuriating older brother way which made Sam so angry these days. Sometimes it was the other way. The way that made Sam’s fourteen-year-old hormones wild. The way where all Dean had to do was touch him or smile at him or look at him or just exist in the same room and Sam felt like he would lose his mind. Dean’s scent in the car. Dean’s hairs in the sink after he shaved. Dean’s laughter at a dumb movie on cable.

But Dean sleeping was something extra special.

The faint worry lines that already showed on his face would smooth out. His expression would go totally relaxed and peaceful, the way it never truly was when he was awake. When he could get away with it, Sam would watch him, breathe in and out with the motion of Dean’s chest, wonder if their heartbeats were synced up, too. When Dean was asleep, Sam could pretend that Dean belonged only to him.

In those moments, Sam wanted more than anything to touch Dean. He wanted it when Dean was awake, too, but Sam knew Dean would never let him. Not like he wanted. Sometimes – sometimes – Sam thought maybe Dean wanted him the way he wanted Dean. All the stupid innuendo about Sam’s sex life; fleeting expressions of desire Sam knew he was probably imagining; the loving looks (no one made Sam feel as loved or safe as Dean did). The slightest touch from his brother set Sam afire, and part of him thought Dean _had_ to feel it, too, that this couldn’t possibly come solely from him.

But then Sam would stare at himself in the mirror, his skinny frame and shaggy hair and awkward pubescent everything, and scold himself for imagining that his perfect older brother, with his model-handsome face and lean muscle that had girls literally flocking to him, would ever want Sam.

It was usually too painful to think about Dean kissing him or touching him the way Sam desperately wanted him to; not when Sam was certain Dean would never do it. So, whenever possible, Sam watched Dean when he was sleeping. He imagined Dean falling asleep naked after a shower; some deep, magic sleep that meant he wouldn’t wake up, no matter what. Sam imagined touching every inch of Dean’s skin, kissing his still lips; imagined rubbing up against Dean’s leg and coming on Dean’s stomach; imagined sucking Dean’s cock and feeling Dean spill down his throat without ever opening his eyes. Sam would clean him up and in the morning, Dean would be none the wiser.

Sam imagined this a lot, even if he didn’t have a sleeping Dean in front of him to study.

But tonight was different. Tonight, they were sharing a bed.

It hadn’t happened in months, but they rolled into the latest town to find some convention had taken up most of the motel rooms. The only one left just had a single queen-sized bed. Dad was dropping them off, going straight on to his latest hunt. If he’d been staying the night, Dean would be sleeping on the floor – he never let Sam take it – but since he wasn’t…

Of course they could share a bed, Dean had told Dad. No big deal.

Sam had complained, feeling shaky with nerves and desire at the thought of being that close to his sleeping brother, but Dean shushed him. _You’ll only have to deal with my B.O. for one night, squirt,_ and a ruffle of Sam’s hair that left Sam glaring and hoping he wouldn’t pop a boner in his baggy shorts. If only _not_ liking Dean’s B.O. was the problem.

Sam had delayed going to bed as long as he could, but finally he knew he would fall asleep in his chair if he tried to stay up any longer. He considered it – considered sleeping on the floor – but feared the questions this would elicit in the morning.

So, he got into the bed. Dean had gone to sleep ages ago, and now he was sprawled out, snoring lightly. Sam shook off the urge to cuddle up to him and instead curled up as small as he could, back to Dean.

As soon as Sam had gotten settled, Dean rolled over, closer to him now. Sam froze, but Dean was dead asleep. Sam had spent enough nights listening to Dean’s breathing, straining to see him in the dark, to know his brother’s sleeping patterns. Dean was gone, into deepest, dreamless sleep.

Or maybe not dreamless; maybe a good dream, because Sam realized with a sudden thrill that Dean was hard, erection just brushing against Sam’s ass.

Sam’s face got burning hot and he was hard too, in an instant, past fantasies crashing around in his mind. He couldn’t enact any of them; no matter how asleep he was, Dean would definitely wake up if Sam started taking off his clothes.

Not that Sam _would_. He bit his lip against hot tears that filled his eyes. He felt like he was going crazy. How could he be such a freak? But he had to get himself off immediately. He should go to the bathroom to do it. He should…but when would he ever get an opportunity like this again? Sam felt like he had to come next to Dean, just once, or he might actually die from wanting him.

As slowly and cautiously as he could, Sam slipped his hand into his boxers. He pressed his lips together, forcing himself not to make a sound, even though when he curled his hand around his length, all he wanted to do was let out a needy groan.

Careful as he was trying to be, he must still have made some minute movement as he started to stroke himself, because Dean suddenly made a soft noise and thrust against him.

Sam’s whole body tensed – was Dean awake? was this happening? – but he heard Dean’s deep, even breaths, and he knew there was no way.

An idea occurred to him, and Sam’s heart began pounding even faster. If Dean woke up…but Sam could say he’d been asleep too, couldn’t he?

So Sam pushed his ass against Dean’s dick, moving his hips a little so the head rubbed against his cheek. Dean rutted right back into him, and Sam had to squeeze his own cock hard so that he wouldn’t go off just from that.

He got a rhythm established, little movements against the motions of Dean’s hips. It didn’t take long before Dean’s breathing got faster. Sam stroked himself then, slowly, holding back until Dean gave a little moan and stopped moving abruptly. Sam felt the telltale warm wetness soaking through his boxers.

Sam crammed his free fist in his mouth and came in three strokes, unable to hold back a tiny noise as he spurted over his fingers. He exhaled with a shudder, and forced himself to keep still until he could tell that Dean was totally lost to the world again.

When he was sure, Sam slipped out of bed and changed his boxers. Climbing back under the covers, he found that Dean had moved into his more common sleeping position, practically face-down on the pillow.

Sam shut his eyes and prayed for sleep, trying to ignore the spreading shame and – even worse – the desire that was stronger than ever. He knew that no matter how guilty he felt, he’d be thinking about this tomorrow morning in the shower, biting his lip to stop himself from whimpering aloud or calling out Dean’s name.

Sam prayed he’d ever be able to find peaceful sleep again.


End file.
